Yumemiru Koto: A city of dreams
by NHKZ
Summary: Based on Hoshino Lily's manga "Yumemiru Koto", the story picks up where she has left off - Princess Olga is not too thrilled to get married. She is, however, fascinated by magic, and made sure to set quests that called for the magical treasures of the world to her suitors. But the princes are getting unhappy by each extra demand she makes and Olga has to make her choice soon,..
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fanfiction came about as a way to reconcile my frustration with the hiatus of the project: Yumemiru Koto by Hoshino Lily. Do check out the original manga.

The first few chapters will entail what exactly is in the manga, afterwhich will be entirely my own plot.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 1

She stood beneath the cluster of leaves, beneath the castle, beneath the clear sky.

It was raining.

How quaint, to have the rain fall when the azure still peeked beyond the green crown. Sunlight trickled through the leaves. But the tree kept weeping.

The water rolled down her cheeks as she tilted her head upwards to receive it all.

"Princess Olga," footsteps were hastening towards her. "I knew it."

Olga looked over her shoulder, surprised. "Well, that was fast, Giotto," she admitted.

Giotto stared at his errant princess and sighed, "Would you please not make your ladies-in-waiting cry?"

"So you were sick of hearing them cry?" Olga suppressed a smirk. "Is that why you're here?"

"Not at all," he looked at her steadily. "It's because I'm the captain of your guards." He bowed deeply before her. "I'm to be by your side, at all times."

"At all times," Olga stared down at his uniformed back. She was crossed. "And you didn't even notice I was gone!"

"My deepest apologies."

Giotto straightened himself as Olga walked towards the horse. "We must leave at once," he advised.

"I don't really care for this husband thing," Olga complained as she climbed up the horse. Her captain remained silent as he watched her settle herself into the saddle.

"Well then, please forgive my rudeness," Giotto apologised as he climbed onto the horse behind her.

"Hey, what are you-"

"We really must not be late," He grabbed the reins and twitched it.

The horse neighed and started galloping.

"Woah," the ride made her breathless, and it went on and on.

Olga did not realise that she had wandered off so far away from the castle. But now they were nearing its town.

The gates passed by in a flash.

As they rode up the kingsroad, Olga saw a crowd had gathered at the square.

"It's the Dulcedo troupe!" someone had cried out.

Olga turned her head, and saw a glimpse of acrobats and fire-breather performing at the square. A voice rose somewhere in the midst of the cheers - a high-pitched lilt that sounded sad and beautiful at the same time.

She wished she could have seen the performance, but it faded into the background as castle grew closer.

^e^

"Olga. Olga!"

Olga turned to the voice.

"What is wrong with you?" Her father demanded.

"Nothing, Father," she replied, careful to keep her voice flat. Her mind was still lost in that single glance. She thought she had seen the singer of the Dulcedo. She was sure that singer was a faery. The singer had looked so otherworldly - that small stature and slim waist. Her light-coloured eyes and the long crystal lashes that looked upwards as her arms stretched towards the sky - beckoning for someone or something to reach for her. Olga had been contemplating what it was exactly, when her father, the king, had so interrupted her daydream.

The princess turned back her attention to the latest suitor. He was still kneeling before the throne. His dark cape cascaded from his back and his cap was slung low onto his face. Honestly, Olga could not remember his name for her life. But her father seemed generous with his words.

"That was excellent. You have our gratitude for coming here," her father was saying.

"It is my honour," the man scarcely replied before the sound of trumpets cut him off.

Olga grimaced as she heard the crier's voice reverbed through the hallway, "The heroes are back!"

Well that's not good, she thought.

"The heroes are back from the fifth trial!"

Olga gulped. She did not think that it was truly possible for anyone to return from that quest.

Around the throne room, the silence broke into hushed whispers as the nobles discussed eagerly with each other.

"Perhaps she'll choose one of them this time."

"The princess? I doubt it."

"But it's already the fifth quest."

The susurration irked her.

The doors were flung open and servants filed in, bearing heavy trays. Across the room, Olga saw that Giotto standing still, hands clasped on his waist, ready to pull out his sword in case there were gifts that were...too outstanding.

Then, with military precision, the servants set their trays onto the ground and stepped back, except for one.

The servant walked towards a tray that held a filled glass pitcher with gold writhing its bottom and neck. She picked it up carefully, and walked slowly towards another tray.

The second tray contained only a fish in its tank.

As fastidious, she poured the liquid into the tank.

The fish squirmed a bit, then slowly formed the shape of a human - except with a tail instead of legs.

Olga gasped as the creature sprung into the air, circling the trays, causing a lit lamp to shriek - no it was not a lit lamp, it was a group of faerie sitting on the lamp, their bodies giving out light - and then around the room.

"That is not all," announced the same servant.

And it was not.

Olga's eyes feasted on chess pieces, that would kill each other as pieces claimed each other's place. A lewd piece where a bull-like figurine ravaged a female one. A diadem that...did absolutely nothing.

All the while, Olga sat back, holding her emotions in, keeping her face carefully void of any interest.

"The heroes await your decision."

But this was it.

This was magic.


	2. Chapter 2

"Damn that wench!"

His fist throbbed where he thudded it against the wall. He could still see her expressionless face, staring down from the dais with her glassy green-gray eyes. Her hand folded over another, all prim and proper, as he, with the other suitors unveiled one marvel from another, treasures scoured from the four corners of the world.

It was obvious that she could barely restrain herself - her eyes had widened slightly, giving away her real emotions.

"The suitors await your decision!" One of the ministers cried out.

A hush fell onto the crowd.

And she replied, with utter disdain dripping from her voice, "You can't possibly expect me to choose a suitor from these," she waved her hands at the treasures, "these _boring_ trifles."

_Trifles,_ she said. _How dare she!_

"Oh, she'll pay for this," he muttered as he walked through the corridor.

Two courtiers passed by him, scarcely sparing him a glance.

"Well," one was saying to the other, "The man who becomes the king of Goetimare would be free to do whatever he wants to that princess every night."

His companion laughed, "I think so too."

The voices faded away leaving him mulling over his own thoughts of revenge.

^e^

The way down was dark. If not for the thousand times she had been there, Olga would surely have fallen and injured herself. Still, she sought for the guide of the dank wall, one hand trailing along it, while the other held up the skirt of her gown so that she would not trip on it. The air grew cooler with each step.

A lone torch flickered in the darkness, revealing a door at the bottom of the steps. As she approached it, she could feel a tautness to the air where the wards begun. She continued to press forward, her movements slowed as though she was walking through muck. The wards had resisted, but soon recognised her and let her through.

Olga pushed the door open and called out "Clotiel!"

There was a whoosh and she saw a glowing figure drifting toward her. The creature was in the shape of a woman.

There was something about it that perturbed Olga - and it was not the lack of clothes on it. It stretched out its hands to the princess, gently cupping her face.

And it vanished with a bang.

"Why are you just standing there?"

Olga blinked and scanned for the little magician.

The circular room was in a mess.

Books had been pulled out from the shelves that lined the wall. Here and there, various apparatus lay about, some spilling mysterious looking liquids while others were various measuring instruments. One corner had a pile of boxes filled to the brim with scrolls.

Dorabella, Clotiel's assistant, was tucked between benches holding a tube of dark liquid. The smoke issuing from it partially hid her star-decorated golden curls and her plump harassed-looking face.

Olga dodged the mess as much as she could as she made her way to the other end of the room.

"There was a woman," Olga said.

"A woman?" Dorebella looked slightly confused.

"She was there, right in front of me."

"But there wasn't any wo-" the girl frowned. "Anyway, the important is - You used a magical object to escape from the castle again, didn't you?" She put down the tube and placed her arms on in her hips as she glared up to the princess.

That was Dorabella - blunt and with no respect for royalty.

"Well, it _is_ my magical object. I can choose to do whatever I want with it," Olga replied defensively.

"They should not be fooled around with. Only we magicians -" Dorabella looked about, "What was that again, Master?"

_Master_ Clotiel was apparently sitting on a flowery-clothed chair nearby, blending into the chaos with his overdressy clothes. If there was anyone who could match Olga's stoic expressions, it would be this little magician.

Clotiel was not _literally_ little, but he was a young boy, only slightly older than Dorabella, but younger than Olga. The princess wasn't sure of his actual age, him refusing to divulge that information and all, but right now, Clotieldezoe, _the _magician of Goetimare, looked about twelve years old.

"You ran off to the raintree again, didn't you, Olga?"

"What do you think of these?" Olga asked eagerly, completely ignoring his question.

The gifts from her suitors were arranged on the table in front of the magician. Clotiel tapped his chin as he thought of an appropriate answer.

"You ripped them off again?" Dorabella suggested.

"Excuse me!" Olga rebuffed with a huff.

Clotiel reached out and picked the diadem off the table. "You _might_ like this."

Olga took the treasure from him and stared at it. "Why? Nothing happened at all when they were showing me this. I thought that it's just a decorative ornament." She studied it in her hands. "It _is_ kind of pretty."

"You have to put it on your head," Clotiel replied.

"Like this?" Olga asked as she placed the ornament accordingly.

The last thing she saw before everything else disappeared was the smirk on Clotiel's face.

^e^

Olga gasped as Clotiel's room vanished.

It was strange walls, lit by flickering torches, that surrounded her now. She was in a court of sorts. The space opened to a small rectangular pool, flanked by round bushes. Lilypads and stars dotted the water.

At one end of the court, between two walls, she could see a doorway to darkness. A sliver of moon hung right above it.

"Where am I?" Olga whispered. "Clotieldezoe? Dorabella?"

No cheeky magician's assistant or the master answered her call.

"Clotiel?" She cried out as she ran forward. Her shoes cracked against the tiles of the court. "Dorabella?"

She paused as she saw a reflection of the water. A girl peered back from the dark water.

"This is...me?" She whispered as she knelt by the poolside.

Her lanky pale hair now fell in curls around a stranger's face. She realised she was not even wearing her own dress.

"Who goes there?" A voice shouted.

Olga turned.

In the doorway where she had stood minutes before, two men, bearing torches ran out.

Something or someone yanked her away from the poolside.

"This way."

A deep voice whispered into her ear as its owner curl his arm around her waist. Olga looked up at him. He was wearing a black wide-brimmed hat with a feather tucked into it. The rest of his attire was equally morbid - from the tunic to his pantaloons and his heeled shoes - except for his stockings. His long black cloak cascaded from his shoulders, brushing the floor lightly.

"How dare you! Who are you-" The stranger pressed his finger onto her lips.

"I am your protector, Princess Olga," he replied gravely.

His voice sent shivers through her body.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, but they were already off, the man sprinting gracefully down passage after passage. He carried Olga with that single arm around her waist as though she was as light as a feather.

One of the passages ended in a large brightly lit room. Thin curtains fluttered as he walked through them.

The stranger set her down and strode towards the balcony. He stepped onto the parapet, and looked out to the sea of stars.

"What...wait!" Olga walked towards him.

The stranger glanced over his shoulder. His lips were curved slightly into what Olga assume was a smile.

He stepped off the balcony.

"Wait!" She dashed to the parapet and looked down.

But he was gone - all she could see was darkness.

"Is...someone there?" a voice asked.

Olga swerved.

"Oh my." A girl, around her age, stood in front of her. The lights from the torches set her coppered-colour skin ablaze. Her eyes and the thick lashes that framed them were dark, as did the hair that fell in clean straight edges below her shoulders. She was wearing a jewelled neckbrace that shone in the light. Gauzy cloth flowed down from it sweeping the floor, over her sandals. A small brooch clasped right between her breasts, revealing her assets to Olga. The girl tilted her head slightly, in confusion.

Olga had never seen someone like her.

"Ah, I am…"

The diadem - the very same one that Olga had put on her head - glittered on the girl's jet-black hair.

"That diadem!"

"What about it?" The girl asked.

"I…"

She smiled and sat on a nearby chaise.

Olga blushed slightly as she noticed that the cloth was completely see through.

"Well, it's quite obvious that you're from a foreign land. Since you're here," she patted the spot beside her, "do have a seat and talk to me for a while."

"Would you be my companion?" she continued, almost shyly.

Her words stunned Olga.

"You...You trust me?" The words came out before Olga realised they were quite rude. "What if I'm here to assassinate you?"

The girl threw back her head and laughed - a deep throaty one, unlike the titters from the ladies of the court that Olga was used to. She was stunned.

"Well," the girl replied when she was done laughing, "You don't look like one. Assassin eh?" Her face lost all of her previous mirth. "That might not be so bad. If I were to die now. I would not have to marry someone I've not even met."

That situation - Olga understood it quite well. So it was the same everywhere.

The princess sat beside the girl, no longer hesitating. The latter surveyed her companion and declared, "We're close in age - I think we'll be good friends. I am Abed."

"Olga," Olga replied.

"_Olga_," Abed repeated her name.

"Olga!" A distant voice called her name. Olga twisted around. "Olga! Wake up!"

^e^

One moment she was in the large room with Abed, and another, she was back in Clotiel's room. Dorabella was had just finished clapping her hand in front of the startled princess.

"Dorabella?" she asked, looking at the magician's assistant. She looked at Clotiel still perched cross-legged on that ridiculous chair of his. "I was in another country. And there…"

"The diadem shows dreams from another country," Clotiel replied before Olga could finish her sentence. "No matter how long time passes in those dreams, it is merely a blink of an eye here."  
Olga took off the diadem from her head and stared at it. It felt so light in her hands, yet she could scarcely believe that it contained any magic.

"May I come and use this again?" she asked, her voice slightly muted from her excitement just seconds before.

"Be my guest," the magician replied dryly.

Olga left the room. True to what the magician had said, it seemed that time had hardly passed. "Abed eh," her thoughts still deep in that dream-like adventure. "I'd like to meet her again."

She felt a tug, and then everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Mature content warning**

* * *

"Magician!" Someone burst into the room. The door crashed into the wall with a loud bang.

Clotiel lifted his head to glare at the intruder. It was Olga's captain. From the rafters, he could see the young man's black head turning here and there, trying to find him.

Clotiel spread his wings and fluttered down, changing back to his human form as he reached the ground. "My name is Clotieldezoe," he reminded the captain in his mild voice. "As I have mentioned many times, Sir Captain of the Guards."

"Where is the Princess?" Giotto was shouting - his spittle rained on Clotiel.

"Is she missing again?" was the magician's impassive reply. "She must have gone to the raintree again -"

"I've searched all the usual places! Why do you suppose I'm here, Magician?" Giotto drove his clenched fist into the wall. "Where is the princess?"

^e^

Everything was bleary, but as she came to consciousness, she was slowly aware of something soft beneath her. Someone was hovering over her - she could hear heavy breathing and the brush of hot air against her neck. She tried moving her, but her hands and legs were bound.

Her eyes snapped open as she felt the cold blade on her skin.

Olga gasped "No!" as the blade slid straight down her body. The cloth fell away, revealing her pale skin. "Stop…"

The man took away the dagger and pressed it against her chest. "Do you like it rough, my Lady?" In the dim light, she could barely see the face beneath the hood. The man chuckled. "_My Lady_. Hah! What kind of a _lady_ are you?" He threw back his hood and laughed.

She did not know his name, but he had been there when the gifts were brought in and presented to her. This man was one of her suitors.

"Why- Why are you doing this?" Olga asked. "You who desire to be a king - How can you do something like this?"

The dagger trembled in the man's fist. "I used to dream. I used to dream of being a king - Your king - of a prosperous kingdom, but _you_!" Olga stared at the knife. It was shaking quite violently now. His face was twisted in fury. "You destroyed that dream! _You destroyed me_!"

He grabbed the front of her dress and ripped it apart. His palm grasped one of her breasts and squeezed it.

Olga spat. "You insolent trash!"

He had his hand around her neck, his fingers crushing her windpipe.

"Watch your tongue!" he hissed. "What magic? What treasure quests. You were just toying with me, you wench. And I -"

Olga could no longer hear him. She could feel herself slip away -

^e^

"She is still within the castletown. She is close, but her presence is fading away."

The magician's words still echoed in his ears as he ran down the stairs, through the roads, through every alley.

_Princess, where are you?_

"Hey there, handsome!" A voice called out.

Giotto turned to see garishly-dressed women on the steps tittering.

"Don't hurry, the night is still young," said another, hanging out from a window.

Giotto knew who they were - ladies of the night, they were called.

He ignored them and pressed on.

"Aw - come over here!"

"Come on!"

"So handsome - come to us." Hands touched and caught his body.

"I'm in a hurry!" He shouted over his shoulder, annoyed.

"To save the princess?" asked a voice.

Giotto turned back to the front.

A woman stood in the middle of the road - completely naked. Her curls fell from to her knees, spread out and glowing from the street light. Yet she was different from the women before. And the most remarkable of all were her eyes - her crystal lashes glittered like diamonds around her pale eyes.

"This way," she said, her voice barely audible as she turned around and walked. Ghostly candles flickered alive, lighting her path. The rest of the town seemed to dim to darkness as he followed.

"What is this place?" Giotto wondered aloud.

"Do you like magic?" The woman asked as she took his hand. Upclose, Giotto could see that her ears were not rounded, but pointed like how faeries were storied to have.

"No," he replied bluntly. "The princess loves it, but to me, it's something unnatural. And you are a little bit like that too. Like Princess Olga."

The woman smiled and blew air.

The lights died and suddenly, in front of the captain, was a great house.


End file.
